


For The Taking

by Paraprosdokia (ChangeableConsistency)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Canon, Banter, Consent, Erica doesn’t have time for your BS, Fluff, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, POV Stiles Stilinski, Present Tense, Remix, mention of Erica/Boyd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-30 03:59:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16757260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeableConsistency/pseuds/Paraprosdokia
Summary: Stiles can do direct, but with Derek’s history, he’s not going to spring anything on him. The ideal thing to do is wait for it to feel natural.





	For The Taking

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [For The Asking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5714008) by [LadyDrace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace). 



> For the Taking was written with the intention that For the Asking be read first.
> 
> I think this is Gen, but maybe Teen? Let me know and I will rate it appropriately.

Stiles isn’t sure when he first noticed it. It happened slowly over time as disparate people slowly gelled together, becoming pack. 

It had just been him and Scott for so long that it took him a while to figure out how everyone fit together. And he’s pretty’s sure he’s got a handle on how he works with everyone except for Derek. 

It’d be one thing if Derek were just family. Maybe not like Scott, more like Erica, dangerous and protective and just a little too flirty; and how is this his life when he can think of her as both family and as ridiculously hot?

Not that he thinks Derek is hot. Or rather, he can admit that Derek is objectively hot (like _all_ the suns hot), but that doesn’t mean he _has_ the hots for him. 

Because the thing is, Stiles is straight. At least, he’s pretty sure he’s straight. So as they start hanging out more with Derek and his pack and Scott eventually drops the quotes when talking about Derek as his “Alpha” Stiles still isn’t quite sure what he is to Derek or Derek is to him. 

So he does what he does best and puts on his research hat. 12 hours and way too much caffeine later he’s figured that he’s a high Kinsey 1, or a Purple-Red D1. Using the KSOG he’s definitely bisexual-ish, or at least Derek-sexual. 

Which doesn’t change anything because even if Stiles isn’t as straight as he thought, he’s pretty sure Derek is straighter than one of Allison’s arrows- which would be an awesome name for a band if Allison ever decides to quit being most ethically lethal hunter ever born and start a band. Stiles is willing to learn drums, Scott could play guitar, and they could all stop almost dying all the time. It would be great. 

Stiles can’t keep himself diverted for long, especially not when Derek does outrageous things like stretch to grab the last box of chocolate cereal for Stiles, revealing a frankly inappropriate amount of skin. Not that Derek’s being inappropriate, but Stiles thoughts start to race in dangerous directions. 

And none of it even matters, because even if Stiles is into it (so into it); Derek’s never even hinted at being less than 100% straight. Just look at his precious relationships. 

Actually, once he thinks about it, there’s something in common with most of the people Derek’s dated, besides all of them being attractive women.

Paige, high school sweetheart, tragically dead after being given the bite without her consent. 

Kate. Yeah, not even going to go into that clusterfuck. Stiles has nightmares enough, thank you very much. 

Jennifer/Julia; speaking of nightmares, the darach had nearly killed Derek’s fledgling pack, in addition to fucking with his head while fucking him. 

Braden was probably the most well adjusted of Derek’s relationships and her obsession with Malia’s mom was partially responsible for them drifting apart. 

She had been invaluable in taking down the Desert Wolf, actually, had been invaluable well before that what with saving all their lives on multiple occasions. She always said it was for the paycheck and that she would never let her emotions get in the way of a job. Stiles wasn’t sure, but in the end that seems to be why she and Derek broke up. All Stiles knows for sure is that somewhere between Mt. Baker and Beacon Hills they split ways and Derek very emphatically _Doesn’t Want To Talk About It_. 

All in all, Stiles sets his mind to finding a thesis topic, refusing to let himself get distracted by Derek Hale. 

***

He would have been successful, he thinks, if he hadn’t come across a book in Derek’s growing library that looks like it might be useful for his thesis research, _Validity and Social Experimentation_. There’s a yellowed receipt that was used as a bookmark, at the bottom in bold writing, “ **Call me.** I’ll get us that table at Il Buco, the Tagliolini’s **sinful**. **Aaron** 212-555-4321” Maybe it was Laura’s book, but, no, it’s the receipt for this book and even if Laura bought it why would she use Derek’s credit card instead of her own?

Stiles can’t help himself, he looks up the restaurant and it was definitely a ‘date’ date and not a ‘you seem like a cool dude, let’s get a beer’ thing, and maybe Stiles has been a bit narrow minded. 

After that he makes more excuses to spend time with Derek, watching him for any clues, especially when he interacts with other hot guys and over the next few months Stiles starts to see it. 

Derek tends to gravitate towards people based on their directness, not their gender; and he definitely has a thing for people who take charge. 

Stiles can do direct, but with Derek’s history, he’s not going to spring anything on him. The ideal thing to do is wait for it to feel natural. 

***

It’s been six weeks since Stiles started looking for an opening to ask Derek out, or for a kiss, or just to confirm that he could maybe be into Stiles the way Stiles is totally in to him. 

When they’re both dripping with slime from something that they all thought was a water spirit, but turned out to be more of a phlegm spirit, it’s definitely not the time, but Stiles looks down at Derek as he wipes the gross goop out of his eyes and blurts out, “Can I kiss you?”

Derek freezes and stares at Stiles, before yelping a stunned, “What?!”

Stiles shrugs, eyes staying fixed on Derek's face for another few seconds giving Derek a chance to process it, to see that Stiles means it. 

Derek remains silent, so Stiles pushes off of him to slosh his way back to the Jeep and mumbles to himself, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” 

He turns before getting into the car and Derek’s still laying there, face wiped clean and looking up into the stars. As Stiles turns to step up into the seat (towels already in place because they’d been prepared to be soaked, all be it with water and not snot) he just catches Derek’s gaze flick to his ass, maroon jeans dark and form fitting from being doused in dead spirit goop and he see’s Derek bite his lip. 

Stiles closes the door and starts the Jeep before letting the smile cross his face. 

***

It’s the following Saturday before Stiles gets another chance to talk to Derek on his own. The whole pack is at the loft, eating Derek out of house and home, the TV blaring over the laughter and chatter. At one point Erica and Scott start arguing over something on TV and everyone is starting to take up sides and Stiles nopes out as discretely as he can. 

Derek is out on the balcony and Stiles follows him, the pack muffled noise in the background as the two of them look out over Beacon Hills, lights twinkling across Beacon Valley. It’s beautiful, but not half as beautiful as Derek. 

Derek turns to look at him and the pack is fully absorbed in the TV and each other and he sees Derek raise an eyebrow at him and Stiles is captivated all over again. 

“Can I kiss you?” Stiles asks, voice barely making a sound in the night around them.

Derek shifts, uncertain in the shadows and eventually Stiles lets out a small sigh, smiling at Derek and telling him, “It's cool. I'll ask again another time.”

He feels Derek’s eyes on him as he walks back inside and takes over the remote, ending any further arguments. 

***

Faster Pussycat Kill Kill: U. 8. MY. CEREAL. FIX IT. NOW. 

Me: What. When? I did? No I didn’t. Which cereal?

Faster Pussycat Kill Kill: Stiles, I’m not kidding. I will bleed on everything you love. 

Me: I didn’t finish your stupid cereal!

Faster Pussycat Kill Kill: CORRECTION. ***YOU*** WILL BLEED ON EVERYTHING YOU LOVE. 

Me: Isn’t this a Boyd thing?

Faster Pussycat Kill Kill: He’s at that werewolf workshop thing. You know. The one YOU and DEREK convinced him to go to. 

Me: So this is really more of a Derek thing then, right? 

Faster Pussycat Kill Kill: Derek’s not answering. Which now makes it a STILES problem. 

Me: ugh, I’m in the middle of revising my thesis...

Faster Pussycat Kill Kill: Get the chocolate kind. 

***

Stiles is near-panicking in the cereal aisle because there are, like, 8 different kinds of chocolate cereal. Finally he closes eyes eyes points at random and grabs the closest one. 

He’s on his way to the checkout lane when he sees Derek, resting murder face and all, with a basket half full of ground beef. 

“Derek! Thank fuck, answer your damn phone, oh my god,” he pants as he tosses the cereal into Derek's basket. 

Derek glares, and Stiles wags a stern finger at him. “Nuh-uh, this is not on me, Big Guy. Check your phone before you embarrass yourself.”

Derek glares one more time for good measure before fishing out his phone, it’s the same one he had last week and Stiles knows from experience that no amount of button-mashing is going to resurrect it after their encounter with the booger monster. 

“Yeah, I dunno, mine croaked almost immediately after the phlegm blob, I'm amazed yours has lasted this long,” Stiles explains. Derek groans throws his dead phone at Stiles and while he fumbles for it Derek dips his hands into Stiles' hoodie pocket to grab Slites’ new phone and starts scrolling through his messages. 

Stiles is lucky his heart rate is already up from being in the crosshairs if a menstruating Erica because it will (hopefully) mask the adrenaline spike from having Derek be so casually intimate. 

Derek hands back his phone, and Stiles returns the dead one to Derek, “See? Aren't you glad I stopped you before you could say something at least one of us would regret?”

Stiles is walking away, desperately trying to remember where he was on his thesis instead of replaying the feel of Derek’s hands in his hoodie pocket on repeat, when Derek grabs his arm and pulls him around so that they are almost nose to nose. Derek is wearing that small smirk, the one that never fails to set off the butterflies in Stiles stomach, as he lifts the cereal between them to wave it under Stiles' nose, “She likes the Nesquik stuff, not Count Chocula.”

Stiles barely hears him, taken in by how close they are, feeling the heat Derek’s radiates 24/7 and he can’t stop himself, “Can I kiss you?” 

But if Derek had found an answer to that yet, he sure as Hell wouldn't give it in the middle of a semi-busy grocery store, and he rattles the cereal box between them.

“Right. Right, not the time,” Stiles murmurs, eyes downcast as he trudges back to the cereal shelves, wondering if maybe he’s pushing to hard, or if maybe he’d imagined the way Derek sometimes looks at him. 

Maybe Derek hasn’t answered because he hasn’t figured out how to let him down easy, or without potentially disrupting the pack dynamic. 

Stiles resolved to let it go; he’s asked three times and anymore it it’s going to be pathetic or harassment; or more likely both. He can be friends with Derek if that’s all that’s on the table.

It will be hard, but he can do it. 

The thought feels false and he’s not sure what it says about himself that he’s so out of practice with lying to himself. 

***

It's just before noon on Sunday, which means Stiles technically kept his promise to come back to the loft in the morning to help clean up after a too late Pack Night. All week he’s _technically_ kept a lot of promises, or at least one big one. 

It’s been hard but he’s starting to think that he may be able to do this ‘just friends’ thing after all. While no one ever said making yourself fall out of love was easy, Stiles has also never been one for the easy path. Especially not when it comes to love. It only took 15 years to finally get over Lydia, if he’s lucky it will only take twice as long to get over Derek. 

At least there’s leftover chili as a consolation prize. 

“I should just get some Tupperware or something, so you can take it home next time,” Derek grumbles without heat as he's wiping the coffee table. 

Stiles snorts from the kitchen area where he's reheating chili on the stove (they have got to get Derek a microwave), offering a light counterpoint; like it doesn’t mean anything, like he’s not dying inside, “But then I wouldn't get to come and bug you on a Sunday, now, would I?” 

Derek falls strangely silent and spends way more time then necessary rubbing at invisible spots on the coffee table. 

Stiles wonders if he’s let something slip, “What, no snappy comeback?” 

“Why bother when it's true? You do bug me.” 

There it is! Phew. They’re going to be okay. Stiles grins as Derek comes up to the sink to rinse out the cloth. 

“Damn right I do, it's like my super power.”  
Stiles turns to find Derek staring intently at him and he has to blink a couple times before he finds his voice, “What?”

“Ask me again,” Derek says quietly, with purpose and Stiles freezes for a second knowing immediately what Derek’s asking and wondering if this is where Derek gives him a hard ‘No’, tells him Stiles is making things too weird and uncomfortable; maybe even that he can’t have Stiles around if he’s going to act like a love sick puppy all the time. 

He puts the lid on the pot and turns off the burner. 

He’s got this. He can do it. He’s prepping arguments for why this doesn’t have to change anything between them. He's slow to face Derek, because he’s had months to run every possible scenario and none of them felt quite like this; the previous times he asked he felt at least a little in control, he’d had time to prepare himself for whatever response Derek may have had and he wonders if this is anything like Derek felt all those times Stiles has asked him over the past couple of weeks. 

Eventually, though, Stiles is facing Derek, eyes tracing Derek’s face, trying to read the answer there before he asks for the last time, putting his whole heart into it, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Derek breathes, and Stiles can feel the joy flare through him, bright and painful in all the best ways and he leans in and gently presses his lips to Derek’s. 

It’s a slow, cautious kiss, soft and searching. It’s everything Stiles has imagined and more and Stiles can’t help whimpering a little as Derek responds, lips returning Stiles’ caresses. 

Stiles is the first to pull back with a sigh, careful not to break the quiet tension. Seeing Derek’s silent tears he kisses each one a way, asking and getting permission for each one; telling Derek with his actions that Stiles will take anything and everything Derek is willing to give.

**Author's Note:**

> Song for the Asking  
> Simon and Garfunkel
> 
> Here is my song for the asking  
> Ask me and I will play  
> So sweetly, I'll make you smile
> 
> This is my tune for the taking  
> Take it, don't turn away  
> I've been waiting all my life
> 
> Thinking it over, I've been sad  
> Thinking it over, I'd be more than glad  
> To change my ways for the asking
> 
> Ask me and I will play  
> All the love that I hold inside


End file.
